


Time Out

by miraeyeteeth



Series: Finding Home [3]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fix-It, Friendship, Gen, Silly, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-25 13:55:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2624243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miraeyeteeth/pseuds/miraeyeteeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A spin-off AU of A Home For Fear. Pitch meets Jack when he is first reborn, but this time has the advantage of having been friends with him before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The first two chapters of this fic are also found in A Home For Fear, chapters 82 and 84. Chapter 3 and onwards are new material and will be added as they are completed.

Pitch woke up confused.

Mainly confused because he didn't sleep. He didn't need to, and there were always terrors to attend to. Why on earth would he be-

Jack was scared. And this was a fear of the dark, the unknown, and Pitch hadn't known Jack to display that kind of fear for decades.

Confusion about the sudden emergence of his sleeping patterns faded in the face of the curiousity that sparked from that observation, and Pitch quickly slipped into the shadows to investigate. The fear, unfortunately, vanished just as Pitch reached the lake. He hmphed in disappointment and cast around for Jack. No lingering fear for him to pull at? Shame. Where was Jack, anyway? He cast around the lake, but there was no sign of the Guardian to be seen. But he knew Jack was here, and he couldn't just disappear-

The sound of cracking ice brought his attention to the center of the lake. Fissures appeared in the thick ice, and then Jack was lifted up out of the water, taking a gasp of air and looking around in confusion.

What. Why had Jack been under the ice? That didn't make any sense, HOW would Jack even get under the ice? He would freeze it solid before he could get in there-

He was wearing different clothes, too. The blue hoodie was gone, replaced with a tattered white shirt and a brown cape. Pitch didn't exactly bother to keep up to human clothing standards, but that seemed more the style of clothing of a few hundred years ago, that he could remember.

Oh, and now Jack was reacting to his staff like he'd never seen it before. At least he was reasonably sure that was what it was like; Jack was normally excitable but generally not this enamored with the frilly white frost that he left constantly in his wake.

What on earth was happening? He could have sworn he was in the past, or something.

The wind suddenly swept Jack up into the air, and instead of the usual easy grace that the Guardian displayed, Jack flailed and fumbled and fell out of the sky, the branches of a tree breaking his fall. Pitch couldn't hold back a soft laugh at that. If this was a newly made Jack, he must have improved a lot over the course the three centuries he'd had. It was like watching a newborn deer stumble around right now.

He tried to stifle the sounds of his amusement when Jack paused and glanced around searchingly in the darkened woods. He wasn't about to give up a prime disaster-watching seat just yet.

He flitted through the shadows, following Jack as the boy made his way towards the lights and sounds of a small village. Pitch choked back another snort of laughter when Jack faceplanted during his attempt to land near the outskirts.

Jack's utter ineptitude didn't seem to deter him at all, and after a brief scuffle with his own cape, Jack managed to get back to his feet and headed into town. No doubt to try to cause some trouble and-

Why was he trying to talk to adults?

Did he really not know what his limitations were-

A child ran straight through Jack and he'd gasped and clutched at himself as if to check if he was still there and suddenly it wasn't funny anymore.

* * *

Jack didn't know what happened. One moment he was in the town square, surrounded by people who didn't seem to see him, and then someone walked through him, like he wasn't even there, sending a convulsive shudder through his whole body, and the next he was suddenly being seized by _something_ that lunged out of an alleyway and dragged him into the shadows. Literally. For a moment there was only darkness in Jack's view, and the unsettling feeling that he wasn't alone in the depths of it, and then he was abruptly in a secluded, darkened gap between two houses.

He jerked and jumped back a step as a tall, slim man with luminous and predatory eyes loomed over him. Jack clutched his staff defensively to his chest.

"You don't need to be afraid of me, Jack," the man said, taking a step forward to match Jack's step back.

"How-how do you know my name?!" Jack demanded.

That prompted a dark chuckle from the figure. "I know a lot of things, Jack. I know who and what you are, I know where you came from, and I know why no one can see you."

"Wha- Did you do this to me?"

The ominous man paused at that, blinking. "No, you can blame the Man in the Moon for that. I'm not capable of such things. You're a spirit now, a tale, like me. And do you know what happens to stories when no one tells them?"

"I don't know what-"

"They disappear, Jack. Vanish, like they aren't even there."

"What are you talking about?" Jack snapped.

"They don't believe in you, Jack. They don't believe in you, and so it's as though you don't even exist." A toothy grin spread over the man's face. "I can help you change that, though..."

"Uh, yeah, well, thanks for that, Mr. Tall Dark and Creepy," Jack replied, dipping his head in mock acknowledgement without once taking his eyes off of the figure. "But you know what, I think I'm good."

The grin slid off the man's face and he straightened up, clasping his hands behind his back. "You don't trust me."

"Not really, no. Why should I?" Jack said flatly.

The man sighed and shrugged. "Fair point. I'll just do it on my own, I suppose." He turned on his heel and strode out of the alleyway, turning a corner and vanishing from sight.

"Do what? Hey, hold up!" Jack exclaimed, rushing out of the alley. The dark figure who had accosted him was skirting the edge of one house, away from the firelight and from the people who still remained in the square, though it was getting quite late by now, so there were few people wandering around.

"Curious, Jack?" Another sharp-toothed grin was flashed before the unsettling man stopped at a window, pulled open the shutters, and peered through it. "One, two, three..." he counted something inside. "Yes, those should do nicely..."

Jack hurried over to the window to see the slumbering forms of three siblings, huddled together for warmth on the chilly winter night. "Those are kids," he said uneasily.

"Yes, they are. Precious children..." The man replied, his smile razor-sharp now. And suddenly, he was gone. Jack blinked and looked around for the dark spirit, finally spotting him now inside the house, looming over the bed. As the shadow that that the man cast fell over the children, their peacefully sleeping faces scrunched up in anxiety or discomfort, hands tightening on blankets as if in the grips of a bad dream. The man lifted gleaming yellow eyes to Jack and spread his hands. "You're more than welcome to join us, Jack," he said, still grinning.

"Stop!" Jack yelled, clenching his staff and lunging forwards to leap through the window. He was stopped halfway over the sill when shadows abruptly rose up and swallowed both the creepy man and the sleeping children, leaving no trace behind. Jack glanced around desperately, heart pounding. He couldn't just leave the kids to... whatever that guy was. But there wasn't any sign of where they had gone-

A chill breeze gusted over him, seeming to tug at his clothes. As good a clue to follow as any, Jack supposed as he pushed away from the window and dashed off in the direction that the wind was pulling him. The breeze drew him onwards, but didn't pick up enough to lift him up, and he quickly approached a clearing just inside the woods surrounding the town. Sounds of whimpers reached his ears, but they were quickly drowned out by a dark snarl.

"Pipe down, you little snots. These are Jack Frost's woods, and I don't want you bringing him down on us."

"J-Jack Frost?" A soft voice stammered.

"Oh, haven't you heard of him? He's the one who leaves those pretty little patterns on your windows, the one who makes the snow sparkle in the sunlight. He's bizarrely fond of little brats like you, and it would be highly inconvenient for me if he stumbled across us, so BE QUIET!" the dark man snapped, just as Jack crashed through the underbrush.

The children were in some kind of dark cage, suspended a few inches above the snow. The younger two were huddled behind their older sister, who stood down the looming shadow-man with all the courage that a nine-year old could muster. "GET AWAY FROM THEM!" Jack yelled, as the gentle breeze that had been leading him suddenly became a screaming gale, whipping up ice and snow and hurling it at the ominous spirit.

The man stumbled backwards, lifting his arms to shield his face from shards of ice that flew past him. He fixed Jack with a searing glare, all hints of the previously friendly demeanor gone. "Frost," he hissed venomously. "This isn't over!" With those last words, he fell into the shadows and vanished, the dark cage disappearing with him, leaving the children to drop into the snow.

The wind dropped immediately, and Jack hurried over to the kids. "Are you okay?" he asked.

The little girl and her brother and sister blinked up at him in wonder. "Jack Frost?" the eldest asked, wonderingly.

"That's me! Come on, let's get you guys home before you catch cold," Jack replied, reaching out with only an instant's hesitation, remembering the person who had just passed right through him before. The girl took a hold of his hand, one of her siblings holding her other hand, and the third sibling's hand as well, forming a chain. Jack drew them back to the village; they were only a few minutes' walk from their home. Jack lifted them back in through the window and tucked them into bed. "Don't worry, I won't let him bother you guys again," he promised as he slipped back out into the night. And the children seemed to believe him, as they easily settled in and closed their eyes while Jack was shutting the shutters.

The sounds of faint applause made Jack jerk and whirl around to see the dark man from before, clapping. "Well done, Jack. You are a natural, aren't you?" he asked, nonchalantly.

Jack bared his teeth and leveled his staff at the man, the wind picking up all around him. "What do you want?!" he demanded.

The man smiled as if they were having a pleasant chat. "I want to help you, Jack. Speaking of which, you should make the children an ice sculpture or something, or they'll forget you in the morning, think it was all just a dream."

"You kidnapped a bunch of kids!" Jack snapped.

He waved a hand dismissively. "Psssh. I borrowed them. They weren't even gone ten minutes, no harm done. You'd be surprised at how resilient children are, Jack."

"And what if I hadn't found you?"

"Why, they would have been sent back home, safe and sound. I frighten children, Jack. I don't have any interest in doing them lasting harm." He paused, blinking. "Oh, that's right, we haven't been introduced. Pitch Black, the boogeyman, at your service," he added, sweeping a bow. "And I do truly want to help."

"I don't want your help!" Jack snapped, frost sparking along the length of his staff.

Pitch's smile faded. "Very well, Jack. Have it your way. I'll be dropping by tomorrow night, if you change your mind. Best of luck," he said, dipping his head before vanishing into the darkness once more.

* * *

Morning dawned, bright and sunny, on the small village. Jack shot up from his crouched position outside of the children's window at the sound of the door to the house creaking open. Out tumbled the trio of children, bundled up in warm clothing and giggling among themselves. Jack sighed, relieved to see that they were okay. "Hey, guys. It's good to see-" he started to say, before the eldest kid ran right through him, cutting through his body more sharply than any winter wind. Jack gasped, clutching his chest. None of the children so much as glanced at him as they dashed by. "Hey. Come on! Hello?" Jack called once he had recovered, whirling around to watch the kids head down the street. Nothing, not a hint that any of them had heard him.

But... But they had seen him. They had seen him last night! How could they just-

_Think it was all a dream?_

Jack gritted his teeth. No. He could make them see him, he could. He didn't need help.

But by sunset, all he had gotten from his efforts had been five more people running straight through him, driving all the air from his lungs each time. None of the snowballs or icicles or frost patterns he made had been even considered anything but completely mundane in nature. Pegging an older kid with a snowball had been blamed on other bystanders, and even though the ensuing snowball fight had been fun, it didn't help Jack in being seen. So now he was crouched on a treebranch, watching the townsfolk hurry home in the fading light.

"I did warn you about them forgetting, you know," a soft voice said beside him, as the last rays of day vanished. The branch didn't so much as shift to indicate more weight was on it, but the feeling of hair prickling on the back of Jack's neck gave him no doubt that the boogeyman had stopped by, as promised.

"Here to gloat?" Jack grumbled, not looking up.

"It gives me no pleasure to see you like this, believe it or not. I've had far too many similar experiences," Pitch replied.

Jack sighed and straightened up, turning to glance at the dark spirit. "What's the catch?"

"The... what?"

"You're not offering help out of the kindness of your heart, Pitch."

"I don't see why I couldn't be. Judging people on their appearances is rather presumptuous, isn't it?" the man asked, meeting Jack's flat, disbelieving stare with an amused one of his own. "To answer your question, it's a mutually beneficial arrangement. I scare the children, you rescue them. Take a few measures to make them remember, and you'll even be able to spend time with them in the daylight, too."

"And I'm supposed to believe that you can't scare kids all on your own."

"Well, yes, I can. But it's hardly as fun. I like a good competition. Don't be thinking that all of your rescues will be as easy as that first one," Pitch replied with a sharp-toothed smile, before sobering. "And of course, I'll personally guarantee the safety of all of the children. No harm will come to them under my care."

Jack bit his lip, seeming to consider the offer. Finally he raised his gaze back to Pitch, eyes narrowed. "If any of them get so much as a bruise, I'll-"

"Yes, yes, you'll hunt me down to the ends of the earth, and I will pay dearly. I've heard the spiel before," Pitch said dismissively. He suddenly vanished, and Jack jerked and whirled around as he felt a hand tap him on the shoulder. The boogeyman had blinked behind Jack faster than it took the boy to realize that he was no longer in his original spot. "Believe me, Jack. If I wanted to hurt children, I wouldn't be reckless enough to attract people's attention to myself when I did. I have quite the ideal skill set for secrecy, after all," he said with a lazy smirk.

Jack glared at the dark spirit. "Deal is that I get to kick your rear, right? When do we start?"

The man's smirk widened into a grin, and he extended one hand as if to shake. "You can try, Jack. And we can start right now."

"I'll do more than tr- wah!" Jack started to retort, but was cut off as he took Pitch's hand and was suddenly dragged into the shadows. The next thing he knew, he was standing in front of a house, with Pitch nowhere to be seen. A window shutter on his left slowly creaked open, and he heard a choked-off gasp from the inside of the room. Then the wind swirled around him and he was on the chase again.

* * *

"What do you mean you don't know how to make ice sculptures?" Pitch demanded in a hushed tone, the both of them outside of the home once more.

"I don't know how! I'm new at this!" Jack exclaimed in a whisper-shout. "What makes you think I even can?"

"Because you coul- you can make snow and frost and all that nonsense, a simple bit of shaped ice shouldn't be a problem!"

"If it's so easy, you do it!"

"Ice isn't my domain, you idiot!" Pitch snapped, then heaved an exasperated sigh. "Can you make a chunk of ice, then? You seemed to be just dandy at that when you were firing them at me." As if to illustrate his point, Pitch picked at a patch on the hem of his robe that had been completely crusted over with ice.

"Hey, you told me to do my worst-"

"I didn't ever say that, actually," Pitch interjected, not looking up from his attempts to defrost his clothing.

"Well you implied it when you were being a giant jerk! Which was constantly!" Jack retorted, eyeing his staff calculatingly. "Now shut it. I'm concentrating."

"Oh, was that what that was? I thought I heard gears grinding," Pitch drawled.

"Shhh!" Jack snapped as he closed his eyes and the wind swirled around him. A moment later, an irregular chunk of ice the size of a pumpkin was lying on the ground where Jack had pointed his staff. "How's that?"

"Hmph. I suppose I can work with that," Pitch muttered, dropping the bottom of his robe and stepping up to the ice. Some kind of black sand trickled out of his palms and swirled around the chunk, obscuring it from sight. The stuff swirled faster and faster and then suddenly dropped away, leaving a small figurine behind, scattered among a pile of ice shavings. Pitch picked it up and plonked it in Jack's hand. "There. You'd best learn how to do these on your own; I'm certainly not doing this every bloody time."

Jack blinked and looked the sculpture over. The figurine was humanoid, with spiky hair, wearing a cloak like his and holding a staff like his. "It's me?"

"Well, it's not a perfect likeness, but it will melt some before the children will wake up anyway. It seems an appropriate way to get the message across."

"I... Thanks," Jack said, hopping through the window to place the sculpture on the bedside table. He tucked the blankets more tightly around the napping kids, then he slipped back outside and carefully closed the shutters. "So, got any more dastardly plots against the kids of this town?"

"Oh, I think you can count on that, Jack," Pitch replied with a smirk.

* * *

Three 'rescues' later, Jack strolled down the dark, empty street of the town next to Pitch, giving the other a light shove. "You nearly made me jump out of my skin that time, jerk."

"Well, yes, that was rather the idea," Pitch replied, barely missing a stride and flashing a sharp toothed grin. "I take it from your girly yelp that it was sufficiently surprising, then?"

"I didn't know you could make monsters too! It just jumped out of nowhere!"

"Nightmares, actually. And that's just one of my many talents. Wouldn't do to be boring now, would it?"

Jack sighed, rolling his eyes. "So, again? I think we still got a few more houses we can hit before sunrise..."

Pitch shook his head. He'd seen the colored lights play in the sky just earlier. The meddlers were going to get involved soon. "I'd best be off for now, actually. Seems the Guardians have noticed what I've been up to and are going to come stampeding in to crash the party at any moment," Pitch muttered.

"The Guardians?" Jack asked, cocking his head to one side, curious. "Who're they?'

 _Wait. He doesn't know who they are yet. He's not theirs! This is perfect!_  Pitch realized with a sudden rush of glee. He swallowed a grin and instead nodded solemnly, laying a hand on Jack's shoulder. "You see, they're a group of spirits that try to ruin everything; they-"

 _No. They'll FEAR both of us. And that's not what I want,_ a treacherous echo rang through Pitch's mind, and he faltered.

"Pitch?" Jack asked, still looking up at him, trusting.

 _No. You CANNOT be passing up this opportunity. Are you completely mad?!_  another part of him screamed incredulously, but Pitch withdrew his hand from Jack's shoulder and clasped them behind his back instead. "They're... twits, frankly. Completely insufferable. We don't get on."

"How come?"

Pitch tapped one finger against the side of his own face, feigning pensiveness. "Hmm, I wonder why? Let's see if you can work it out. I'm called the Boogeyman, and they're called the Guardians." He grinned predatorily, showing off all his teeth. "I'll give you three guesses, and the first two don't count."

"You're… the bad guy?" Jack replied, hesitantly.

Pitch spread his hands. "Oh, I've been found out. What gave it away? My sunny disposition?"

Jack fidgeted, glancing down at his toes. "Well, you don't seem that bad to me…"

Pitch smirked. "Ah, yes. That'll be the brainwashing setting in. Soon you'll be nothing but my obedient little slave."

Jack looked up sharply, blinked, then let out a snort of laughter. "You're a weirdo, you know that?"

"So I've been told. I wasn't lying about the Guardians, though, they quite dislike me, and the feeling is mutual."  _Stop. Stop. Stop!_  Pitch took a deep breath and plunged on. "However, you are an insufferable brat, they are insufferable prats, and I think you lot will get along famously, what with your strange fixation on light and smiles and happiness. Oh, and you should really ask the fairy about why the teeth are so important."

"…what?"

"Tell me Jack, how do you feel about putting on a little show?" Pitch asked, grinning.

* * *

"You sure it's Pitch making trouble down there, North? This seems like pretty small-scale stuff for 'im," Bunnymund gasped from the back of the sleigh, where he was clinging to the rickety wooden contraption for dear life.

"Even if it's not Pitch, someone is threatening the children," Tooth replied. "It's our responsibility to stop them."

"Exactly!" North boomed, cracking the reigns. "Almost there now!"

A sudden crack of pale blue light from the ground below made the four Guardians crane their necks for a look. An ominous black figure was doing battle against a pale boy in a brown cloak, just past the outskirts of town. Ice blazed a path through the arc of the boy's staff as he swung it. "It is Pitch," Bunny breathed. "But who's...?"

"Whoever he is, looks like he could use help! Come on Sandy!" Tooth dove out of the sleigh, closely followed by the golden Guardian.

"Get out of here-" The boy stopped his shout and jerked in surprise when a lash of golden sand blocked the attack Pitch had launched at him, snapping his head up to spot the arriving cavalry.

Pitch's eyes narrowed at the sight of the Guardians. "Of course. Should have known. Birds of a feather and all that," he spat, before turning his glare on the boy. "Afraid you'll have to take a rain check, Frost. Watch your back." With that last threat, Pitch dropped back into the darkness in time to avoid another golden whip.

"Are you all right?" Tooth asked, fluttering up to the newcomer.

"Uh, yeah! Fine, thanks!" the boy replied with a grin. Tooth's eyes widened and she flitted forwards to pry open his mouth, peering inside with a delighted gasp, prompting a surprised "Gah?!" from the boy.

"Tooth! Fingers out of mouth!" North called as the sleigh landed on the snow with a juddering crash. Bunnymund hopped hurriedly out of the thing, shaking and looking incredibly grateful to be back on solid earth once more.

"Oh, sorry! I don't usually... They're beautiful. Your teeth, I mean," Tooth said sheepishly, removing her hands.

"Thanks?" Jack replied hesitantly.

"I think we owe ya a thanks, actually." Bunnymund said, and stepped forward, paw extended to shake. "Not every day someone faces down the Boogeyman. Who are ya, kid?"

"Jack Frost. Nice to-" Jack started to reach forward, but was interrupted.

"Welcome, Jack!" was the only warning Jack got before he was swept into a massive bear hug.

"Erk!"

Sandy floated up to eye level and flashed a pair of thumbs up to Jack before the boy was lowered back to the ground.

"Uh, this is-" Jack started to say.

"You should come with us, Jack! Much to talk about!"

"And if Pitch is after you, it's safer to-" Tooth added, or attempted to.

"Yes, yes, that too! Come, I have eggnog back at home, you'll like it!" North said, pulling Jack along beside him.

"Strewth, do we really have to take the sleigh back?"

None of the Guardians, except maybe Sandy, noticed that Jack seemed more apprehensive about going with the Guardians than he had during the battle with the boogeyman. Not that it mattered, because he was quickly whisked into the sleigh in either case.


	2. Chapter 2

It had all been a bit of a blur as Jack was bundled into the sleigh and whisked off to one of the absolute coolest-looking workshops he had ever seen. He had spent most of the walk inside craning his neck to try to see all the amazing things that were flitting through the air, sitting on tables, or being made by the large, fur-covered people that scurried through the large area. He had hardly paid any attention at all to the questions that he had been peppered with until they reached a large, intricately carved table and Jack found himself sitting on a bench, clutching a mug of what the large red-coated man had called 'eggnog'. It looked a bit weird, but didn't taste half bad. Or bad at all.

"So, Jack, right? I have not heard of you before." The man and the rest of his companions had settled at the table too.

"Uh, yeah, wouldn't really have expected you to. I just... um. Not sure what you'd call it.. got created? The night before," Jack replied, finishing off the mug and licking his lips. He noticed the small golden man raising his own glass in a cheery salute.

"You're new?" The feathery lady trilled, crest flaring in excitement. "Oh, wow! There haven't been many new spirits around for a while now! Most of us have been around for ages!"

"Sorry you had to run into that git to start out with. Swear most of us aren't like him," the large rabbit added.

"Huh? Pitch, you mean?" Jack asked,

"Yes, on that topic, you should stay here, for now at least, Jack," the bearded man said.

"What? Uh, well, don't get me wrong, this place is amazing, but I was kinda hoping to get back to town for the morning," Jack replied.

"I understand, but if Pitch is targetting you, you should stay where we can protect you."

"Psh, come on. I can take care of myself. You saw me before."

"Look, kid, you're new, so I don't think that you understand how dangerous Pitch can be. He's bad news, he plays dirty, and he's absolutely ruthless. You might be able to take him on in a head on fight, but without someone to watch your back?" The rabbit shook his head.

Jack blinked. Were they talking about the same Pitch? "Come on, I'm sure he's not that bad."

"I'm afraid he is, Jack," the bird lady said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, you'll only need to stay here for a little while, until we can drive him off again."

The quiet golden one nodded and smacked a fist into an open palm.

"Whoa, what? What do you mean by that? Jack asked, looking around at the grim faces of the Guardians.

"Whatever Pitch has done to gain the power he's using now, we'll put a stop to it. Without any sources of fear to draw off of, it will be easy to force him back to his lair and strip him of his power over the children," the large man replied.

"Maybe we can get 'im to hole up in that pit of his permanently this time, instead of just a century of two," the rabbit added.

"Uh, y'know, that seems a lttle hasty..." Jack said, shifting uncomfortably.

The rabbit blinked grass-green eyes. "Why're you defending the blighter? You were fighting him off yourself just a while ago, weren't ya?"

"Um, well... Kind of, but..." Jack fumbled for something to say.

The rabbit's eyes narrowed slightly."Hold a tick. Let me see if I got this straight. You, a brand spanking-new spirit, just happen to be in the same area that the Nightmare King decides to make a comeback in, and then are _conveniently_  holding your own in a fight against him when we come calling. With abilities that you've been fiddling with for all of a day," he said flatly.

"Bunny, what are you saying?" the feathered lady asked.

"Seems pretty fishy to me. 'Specially since the kid's so defensive of the creepy blighter." the rabbit- Bunny- said. He snapped his gaze back to Jack. "Are you supposed ta be some kind of spy?"

"What? No! He just said that-"

"He? You did plan this with him then!" Bunny interrupted him, surging to his feet.

The bird lady flitted between them, holding out her hands. "Wait! I'm sure it's not Jack's fault. Pitch must have lied to him or tricked him..."

The large man sighed and stood up. "Whatever the situation is, I must insist Jack is kept here, for his own good as well as ours."

They were planning on locking him up?! Jack leapt backwards off the bench, clutching his staff. "Uh, I appreciate the offer and all, but-" He backed into a large, furry obstacle and glanced up to see one of the massive furry people from before looming behind him. He yelped and scrambled out of the way just as the wide, muscled arms closed around the space he'd just occupied. Jack dashed for the door, ice blazing out behind him and sending the Guardians and other creatures slipping and skidding when they attempted pursuit. Jack darted out the door, vaulted a railing, and landed lightly on the next floor down before continuing running.

He was dashing past a wide, vaulted window overlooking a breathtaking view over the cliffs when the glass suddenly shattered and a screaming gale yanked him out into open space. There was a heart-stopping moment when Jack was in free-fall over a dizzying drop, and then winds gusted up from under him, tossing him back into the air and carrying him further and further away from the workshop. Jack flailed and sputtered for a moment before managing to get into something resembling control. The wind itself seemed to be quite eager to carry him off, but it was less picky about whether he was upside down or spinning dizzily around or in some other uncomfortable position. Jack took several deep breaths and tried to calm his racing heartbeat when he noticed that he was gradually but noticably flying lower and lower over the icy, frozen plain. "Hey, no! Don't put me down h-" Jack's yell was muffled by the snow that was abruptly in his face when the wind dropped him ten feet from the air into a fluffy snowdrift. He floundered and managed to clamber out. "No, I want to go home!" he yelled out.

The wind swirled around him, pulling his clothes this way and that.

"What do you mean you don't know where that is?!"

"You're asking a bit much of the poor thing, Jack," a soft drawl said from behind him.

Jack whirled around. "Pitch!"

The boogeyman stood nearby in the shadow of a large shelf of ice, grinning. "I did warn you that the Guardians were less than fond of me, you know. You're not very good at listening, are you?"

"Were you spying on us?"

"No, actually. Sandy would have noticed me, he's troublesome that way. And I was busy elsewhere. I just felt your fear and figured that if everything went well, you wouldn't have ended up facedown in a snowbank, alone."

"Felt my fear?" Jack asked, raising an eyebrow.

Pitch shrugged. "It's what I do. Sense it, smell it, taste it, whatever you want to call it. It's not really any of those things, not really, but explaining how it works is like trying to explain sight to someone who has been blind from birth. I just know. I always know."

Jack blinked. "Well, that's weird. And creepy. Can't say you seem very put out over my disagreement with the Guardians, though."

Pitch grinned even wider, if that was possible. "Oh, I'm simply devastated for you, believe me. But, you know, if they won't take you, I might be persuaded to instead..."

"I'm not something for people to take," Jack replied, his smile fading. The memories of his immediate future being talked about as if he had no say in the matter were to fresh for him to not bristle at the implication of being laid claim to.

"Ah," Pitch faltered for a moment, the mischevious smirk dropping off his face. He shifted his weight awkwardly for a moment, then cleared his throat. "Right. Just a turn of phrase. Though I would suggest letting me take you back to the town, seeing as we are still quite close to North's hideout and I doubt you parted on the best of terms with the twits."

Jack ran a hand through his hair and blew out a relieved sigh. "A lift back home would be great, thanks."

"Good. I'll even let this one be a freebie, since it's endlessly entertaining to watch the Guardians lose their cool," Pitch drawled as he waved a hand.

Darkness surged up all around them, and after a blinded, claustrophobic lurch, Jack opened his eyes in more familiar woodland, bathed the flat grey light of predawn. He swallowed and rubbed his arms against the goosebumps that had been raised over his skin. He wasn't sure if he'd ever get used to that.

"There you go. The Guardians tend to be hesitant to charge into places where they might be easily spotted by people in daylight. Destroys the mystique or something, I suppose. We're all creatures of the night in our own way, though they'll never admit it. In any case, you probably won't be bothered until nightfall. So you should have plenty of time- oh," Pitch paused, seeming to remember something. "You didn't ask the fairy about the teeth, did you?"

"Uh, no. Didn't really come up."

"You really are bad at listening. Wait a moment," Pitch said, and vanished.

Jack sighed and leaned against a tree. Why would the teeth matter? He opted to pass the time by frosting over the branches within his reach.

The boogeyman reappeared several minutes later, carrying a little golden casket. "You should have gotten Toothiana to get these for you, really. Sending me on an errand like this is ill-advised. So many... temptations and opportunities," he mused, seemingly half to himself.

"Yeah, well, sorry for jumping to your defense so quick," Jack muttered defensively, crossing his arms.

"Oh, did you? I'm touched," Pitch drawled, a smirk tugging at his lips. "It's hardly surprising that you had to leave so quickly, then. If you had wanted to get along with them, you should have thrown me to the wolves. Metaphorically speaking, that is; though I doubt they'd argue against you doing it literally either. In any case, here you go." Pitch held out the container.

Jack took the object, looking it over. It was lighter than he expected, intricately decorated, and had the picture of a boy's face on one end of it. It seemed familiar somehow, but Jack had never seen it before in his life. "Okay, thanks for this. Are you going to tell me what it is now, or do you like keeping me in the dark?"

Pitch grinned. "I can't say I don't enjoy that, Jack. But to answer your questions, it's a set of teeth. Your baby teeth, specifically."

Jack snorted. "Yeah, pull the other one. I was made a couple days ago, and I don't remember losing any teeth in between then and now."

"You lost them before you were brought out of that lake. You were human, and you grew up like the rest of those screeching brats you're so fond of. That little case holds not just your teeth, but the memories inside them. The ones you don't have anymore."

"What?" Jack's gaze snapped up from the case to the boogeyman, eyes wide. "You mean I was someone before this?"

"Yes. I thought you should know about them sooner rather than later." Pitch tapped the case and the diamond pattern began to shine. "Go on, then."

Jack touched the shimmering pattern and was suddenly thrown back into a sea of memories. He gasped and snapped his eyes open when the flood subsided, clutching the little golden box. "I- Did you see that?"

Pitch raised a hairless eyebrow. "They're your memories, not mine."

"It was- I had a family! And a sister! And I saved her!" Jack bounced on the balls of his feet in jittering excitement. "That's why I was chosen! I'm supposed to watch over kids!" He suddenly froze, his smile dropping off his face. "And I just got booted out of the Guardians."

Pitch snorted. "Who says you need the permission of those tossers to watch over the squalling brats of the world?" he asked.

"I... Yeah! You're right! Wow, this is..." Jack let out a giddy laugh. "I don't even know how to describe it."

"Yes, well, I'm glad that you've had your epiphany for the evening," Pitch drawled. "Now in the spirit of ruining everything, I'm going to remind you that your sister thinks that you're dead."

Jack deflated at that, eyes widening. "Oh no. Emma..."

"She's still in town. She'll even be able to see you," Pitch said. "Though you might need to calm her down a little first."

"What? Why?"

"Because she thinks that you're a vengeful ghost who blames her for your death."

"SHE WHAT?!" Jack yelled. "What did you do?!"

"I have a limited skill set," Pitch said defensively. "Those nightmares were the easiest way to get her to believe."

"I cannot believe you! I have to fix this!" Jack dashed out of the woods to head for his old house. A tap of his staff had ice growing through the cracks of the window shutter, pushing the latch out of its place holding the window shut. Jack pulled the shutters open and slipped inside, freezing when a muffled sob reached his ears. Emma was huddled in the corner of the room, wrapped in blankets but still trembling, her eyes fixed on the spirit that had slipped in through her window. Jack felt his heart drop. "Emma..."

"I'm sorry, Jack! I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to kill you, I'm sorry," she sobbed, curling tighter in the blankets. "It's all my fault..."

"No. It's not," Jack said, putting his staff down and walking to where his sister was huddled. She flinched when he came closer, but didn't try to run. He knelt down and pulled her into a hug, holding her tightly. "It's not your fault. It's okay. I'm so glad you're alive, Emma. Don't be scared."

"But you're dead, Jack. You're dead because of me," Emma whimpered into his shoulder, bunching Jack's cloak in her hands.

"Hey, come on now. Do I look dead to you?" Jack asked, pulling back enough from the hug to look down at his sister. He picked up a corner of one of her blankets and used it to dry the tears on her face. "I just got a bit of a new look is all."

"But you fell in..."

"Heh. You think a little bit of water is going to keep me down? You've gotta have some faith in your brother, kid."

Emma sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve. "How did you come back?"

"The moon helped me. There were a couple of days there where I was still getting back on my feet, but a... a friend helped remind me about what was important. So I'm here now. I'm sorry I left you alone, Emma."

She managed a watery smile. "That's okay, Jack."

Jack hugged her again. "We're both going to be alright," he promised, and huffed a little laugh. "And you are not going to believe some of the upgrades I got. If you thought your big brother was cool before, man, do I have news for you."


	3. Chapter 3

Pitch was back. Pitch was back and he’d collected an accomplice in whatever he was planning. But the lights weren’t going out. Sandy had noticed more children than usual having bad dreams, but none of the lights had so much as flickered. North had triple-checked the calibration of the globe, and everything seemed to be fine. In fact, in the little place where they had initially encountered Jack, Burgess, there were _more_ lights than before.

“What is he doing?” North asked out loud, drumming his fingers on the railing as he overlooked the huge glittering globe.

“Maybe he showed himself too early? And he still needs more time to put whatever plans he has in action?” Tooth speculated.

“He went outta his way to show off with that Jack kid. I’m thinkin’ he put a bit too much faith in the gumby’s ability to fool us. Doesn’t ‘ave a double agent to work with anymore,” Bunnymund said, scratching behind one of his ears.

“If that were the case, I can’t imagine Pitch would just let Jack go unpunished. I don’t think he’d tolerate failure from his underlings,” Tooth pointed out. “I’d be worried about Jack’s safety, normally, but my girls have been checking the town he’s in, and he seems totally unharmed.”

“What has Jack been doing?” North asked.

“That’s the weird thing. From their reports, he’s just been playing with the children in the town. Sledding, snow forts, snowball fights, that kind of thing. No sign of Pitch, but he doesn’t usually venture out in the daytime.”

“Is he trying to play innocent now? After everything?” Bunnymund asked incredulously.

“I do not think Jack is malicious. I do not feel it, in my belly,” North said, clapping a hand over his stomach. “If we go, talk to him, we may get him to see things our way, tell us what Pitch is plotting.”

“Again with the belly,” Bunnymund grumbled. “What’d’ya think, Sandy?”

The little golden Guardian shrugged, symbols flickering over his head, coins and bow and arrow. _Worth a shot._ Tooth nodded in agreement.

“Okay, alright, fine. But we are NOT taking the sled this time.”

* * *

 

The daylight hours brought with them frenetic and joyful activity, Jack taking the time to frolic with his sister and the other children in the village who could see him. The one spot of cloud that shaded the otherwise sunny day was that Jack’s mom couldn’t or wouldn’t believe Emma about him being back. She had agreed that Jack was watching over them, but hadn’t been aware of exactly how literal that was.

Jack sighed as he stood outside of the window as the last sunlight faded, letting an intricate frost pattern blossom over the shutters. “Sorry, Mom,” he murmured wistfully.

There was a weird ‘ _vorp’_ kind of sound, and Jack wheeled around to see the Guardians emerging from a swirling, multicolored portal near the edge of town. He took a step back, away from them. “You guys again. What do you want?” Jack asked.

“Jack, we may have gotten off on wrong foot-” the largest man started to say, holding his hands out placatingly. He was cut off by a swirling wall of shadow slamming up between Jack and the Guardians.

“Ah-ah-ah, North. You had your chance.” Pitch’s voice echoed all around them. “It’s too late to take it back now…”

“Pitch! What are you planning?” Bunny snapped.

Pitch chuckled darkly, still invisible. “Wouldn’t you like to know. Are you scared, rabbit?”

“In yer dreams, whacker!”

“Jack, please. I know we were a little overbearing, before, but whatever Pitch is doing, it can’t be good. We just want to help,” Tooth pleaded.

Jack opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by Pitch appearing suddenly next to him and the darkness forming itself into shrieking black horses with razor teeth.

“Maybe I haven’t made myself clear. Jack isn’t going anywhere with you,” Pitch stated. “And if you try it, I promise, I’ll make you regret it.”

“Pitch! Let Jack go!" North demanded from behind the seething wall of Nightmares that separated the Guardians from the boogeyman and the pale young frost spirit.

“Let?” Pitch blinked, then a slow smirk spread over his face. "Ah, I’m sorry to say that you’re too late to save him, Guardians. He’s my obedient little puppet now. Isn’t that right, Jack?" Pitch purred, laying a hand on Jack’s shoulder.

Jack stared at Pitch, sighed, and rolled his eyes. “You know, things would be a lot more peaceful around here if you would stop antagonising them.”

Pitch narrowed his eyes and removed his hand. “One, they’re my nemeses and it’s my job to torment them,” he said, ticking off the points on his fingers. “Two, that was not the correct response, boy. You’re supposed to say ‘Yes, master.’ Try it again.”

"Not a chance," Jack replied, crossing his arms and sticking out his tongue.

Pitch growled and lunged forwards, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from the Guardians. He grabbed a hold of Jack and yanked him forwards into a headlock. Pitch’s free hand came up to ruthlessly muss Jack’s hair. “Say it!” he demanded.

"Never!" Jack laughed, flailing and twisting out of the hold. The second he was free, he swarmed up Pitch to cling to his back like a monkey. "You can’t make me!"

"Get off of me!" Pitch snarled, twisting around in a circle and attempting to grab the spirit on his back.

"Hey, you grabbed me first! This is what you get!" Still holding on for dear life, Jack pulled back the scruff of Pitch’s robe and exposed the back of the boogeyman’s neck.

Pitch stiffened. “Don’t you dare- AAH!” the boogeyman yelped when Jack shoved a fistful of snow down his back. “Off!” Pitch finally managed to grab a fistful of Jack’s shirt and hurl the laughing boy off of his back.

Jack twisted midair to land on his feet. He glanced sidelong to grin at the Guardians, who were watching the exchange with utterly gobsmacked expressions. “Yeah, I see what you guys mean now, pure evil- wah!” Jack was blindsided by a coil of nightmare sand wrapping around his ankles and yanking his feet out from under him. “Hey!”

Bunnymund stared at the tussling spirits a moment longer, then glanced over at North. “Y’didn’t put something funny in that last batch of eggnog, didja?”

“Not unless elves did it,” North muttered, still staring.

After another scuffle, Pitch managed to grab Jack by the scruff of the neck, shove the winter spirit’s face into a snowdrift, and hold him there. Ignoring the flailing and muffled protests, he looked back at the Guardians. “To return to the subject at hand, I will be doing whatever I please, Guardians. You’re welcome to try to stop me, but don’t think it will be easy. This isn’t the kind of thing you can fight with _wonder and light_ ,” he said with a smirk, slightly out of breath. “And I won’t be taking kindly to you harassing Jack. That’s _my_ job, you see. We’ll be off now.” The shadows rose up once more, and the boogeyman, Nightmares, and Jack Frost all vanished.

“…They’re _buddies_?!”

* * *

 

“Keh! Jeez, you are such a jerk!” Jack sputtered, breaking free of the hold wiping snow off his face. He then glanced around; they were in a forest of some kind.

“Consider it payback for the snowball you smacked me in the face with last night,” Pitch replied dismissively. “And you were interrupting me.”

“Well, it’s kind of hard not to, considering how much you seem to love the sound of your own voice,” Jack muttered.

“I have a _fantastic_ voice, you have to admit,” Pitch replied.

“Yeah, it’s a shame it’s saddled with the biggest, most dramatic diva ever for an owner.”

“You’re just digging a deeper grave for yourself with comments like that, Jack,” Pitch growled.

“Right. I’m petrified, really,” Jack replied dismissively.

Pitch let out a long-suffering sigh. “From your disgusting cheeriness, I presume that the day went well?”

“Yeah, I managed to work everything out with Emma. She’s all better now.”

“Hmn. In my day, children knew how to be _properly_ traumatized,” Pitch remarked, folding his arms.

“Aw, you poor thing,” Jack replied, sarcasm dripping from his words. “But really, thanks. If I hadn’t… Well, it wouldn’t have been very good.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’ll be sure to cash in your debt the moment it’s least convenient for you,” Pitch replied with a smirk.

Jack rolled his eyes, then paused, frowning. “…Do you have a home?”

“Of course I do. That’s a silly question.”

“Is your family there?”

Pitch paused. “No. I’m far older than most spirits; if I did have a family, they’re long since dust. I don’t doubt that I wouldn’t be able to stand any aggravating interlopers in my domain, anyway.”

“Sounds lonely.”

Pitch snorted. “Peaceful, you mean. Though I’ve been busy exploring the world these last few days, I haven’t been back there since… Oh, it’s bound to be an absolute mess right now.” Pitch tsked. “I’ll have to spruce it up again.”

“I could help, if you wanted. You know, while you give me the grand tour,” Jack offered with a grin.

“Curious little thing, aren’t you?”

“Who, me?”

Pitch sighed. “Well, no time like the present, I suppose.” He waved his hand and the two of them vanished once more.

They reappeared in a labyrinthine ruin, faint shafts of light providing limited illumination of a cavern that was all at once twisted and crumbling. Stairs and bridges terminated abruptly, half broken away or leading to crumbled dead ends, looming over deep and black chasms that split the floor like the maws of some giant beast. Chains hung from the arching ceiling of the place, creaking as they swung in the slight breath of air that stirred the depths. Rusted and broken cages, most large enough to house humans or larger creatures, lay scattered on the floor, broken bars forming what seemed to be the rent ribcage of a felled monster. Jack swallowed at the feeling of hair prickling at the back of his neck and glanced around nervously. “Uh, wow,” he murmured.

“It’s more of a mess than I remember,” Pitch sighed, stepping past Jack without so much as a second glance and tracing a finger along the curve of a bar. “I suppose that-”

“WHO DARES TRESPASS IN MY DOMAIN?!” a roar that echoed with the screams of dozens tore through the disquieting silence.

“What was that?!” Jack yelped, clutching his staff.

“Oh. Well, this complicates matters,” Pitch remarked, as a shadow stretched up over the walls to loom over them, eyes blazing.


	4. Chapter 4

“ _You were fools to enter this place_ ,” the dangerous voice hissed from every corner of the lair, darkness encroaching on the pair of them. “ _You gambled with your lives and sanity, and you lost. You will never escape this place, or me. Your bones will lie here forever, alone and forgotten…_ ”

“Please. You and I both know you don’t have the power to carry out those threats,” Pitch replied dismissively, turning his attention back to the shattered cage.

“ _You dare test me?!_ ” the other thing snarled, and claws made of shadow swiped out from the looming creature. Pitch didn’t so much as blink, and the claws passed through him without any apparent effect whatsoever.

“I don’t need to, you do it quite handily all by yourself,” Pitch replied.

“Pitch, what is this thing? Some kind of guard dog?” Jack asked, staff held up defensively.

“Not really. It’s… well, it’s a bit of a long story-”

“GUARD DOG?!” The snarl rang through the caverns and Jack flinched as shadows swarmed up his ankles and calves, but the darkness caused no more than a faint sensation of pressure against his skin.

Pitch sighed. “Quite the anger problem we have there. I suppose I can’t really blame you, but it’s no good in throwing a tantrum if you’re too weak to do any real damage. It just tips your hand. Not that it really matters in this case…” He waved a hand, making the shadows evaporate from Jack

“How did- Who _are_ you?” A slim, dark man with luminous eyes stepped out of the shadows to confront Pitch.

The boogeyman met the eyes of his near-doppelganger, though the one that had just emerged seemed smaller, more washed out. “I’m you. Give or take three and a half centuries,” he replied, looking his counterpart up and down and pursing his lips. “You look terrible.”

The other Pitch stared at him suspiciously. “Well, the Dark Ages ending wasn’t exactly my greatest moment. But you should know that, shouldn’t you?” he replied curtly. “How did you get here?”

“I’m not really sure. I did annoy Father Time once or twice before… Or after this actually, I suppose,” Pitch shrugged.

“Wait, hold on. You’re, what, the future version of him?” Jack interrupted, pointing at the newer Pitch. “That’s how you knew so much about me, isn’t it? You met me before.”

Pitch grinned, teeth flashing in the gloom of the lair. “I admit, I cheated a little.”

Jack frowned, considering this new information. “So, why did you come find me? What’s the deal with us in… when you’re from?”

“Why, we’re simply the best of friends, of course. How could we be anything else?” Pitch asked innocently, spreading his hands.

“Yes, I’m sure he makes a lovely minion. Maybe he actually becomes marginally intimidating at some point,” the other Pitch drawled dismissively. “How nice for you. But there are more pressing matters to discuss. You’re believed in, aren’t you? Seen?” He stepped forwards and looked over his doppelganger more intently.

Pitch’s eyes narrowed at the slight, and a Nightmare reared out of the space between them, making his counterpart stumble backwards with a start. “Oh yes. My name is known the world over,” he replied with a smirk, stroking the nose of the creature.

“How did you… The dreamsand?” the newer boogeyman murmured, staring at the Nightmare. He snapped his gaze back to Pitch, a giddy grin splitting his face. “The Guardians are gone, then?” he asked gleefully.

“Well, no. The twits are still around, being nuisances,” Pitch admitted.

The grin vanished. “But if they’re still... Wouldn’t they stop you?”

Pitch picked up the wide smile his doppelganger lost. “No. Because they _can’t,_ you see. As much as they like to flash those little weapons of those, the real threat are their centers, hope and wonder and light. Those are what drive out the space that fear can occupy, as you and I found out in the Dark Ages. But it’s not the opposite of _all_ fear. Shadows always coexist where there is light, and humans will actually happily invite me in, given the right incentive. I’m sure you’ve heard them tell horror stories around the fire…”

“You’re feeding off of _that_?” the other boogeyman said disdainfully. “That isn’t real terror.”

“Oh, it’s real enough for my purposes. And it’s convenient, they run off screaming only to come right back for more the moment the adrenaline rush wears off. It’s... fun.” He glanced at Jack, who was watching this exchange with some interest, before turning his attention back to his doppelganger. “And best of all, the Guardians can’t do a _thing_ about it. If anything, extra doses of wonder and whimsy just make the humans _more_ inclined to seek out a thrill.”

The other boogeyman sneered. “You’re settling. Have you forgotten already, how it was to be a being of _true_ dread, to have people of all creeds quake at the mention of you? To answer to nothing and no one?”

“No, I remember. The good old days,” Pitch murmured, sounding wistful.

“We could have that again, you and I. It would be easy, you still have power and belief and knowledge… We could dispose of the Guardians and take power again. The world will tremble at our approach again, and no one will be able to watch the sun set without feeling dread creep up their spines…”

Pitch took a slow breath, staring out over the ruins of his past lair. “…No. That’s not any way to live, not even for you or me,” he answered, shaking his head.

“WHAT?! You- What did they do to you? Where are your claws, your spirit? You’re happy to be some kind of mewling threatless lapdog?!” the other boogeyman spat, clenching his fists and stepping forward.

Pitch snarled at his double, and the already faint light dimmed all around them, swallowed by shadows that rose like his hackles. “Get me angry and see how dull my claws are, wretch.”

“You’re throwing everything away, and for what?!”

“Hey, hey, whoa. Let’s just calm down, alright?” Jack interrupted, stepping between the two of them. “You’re so argumentative that you’re going to fight _yourself?_ Really?”

“I am _not_ him!” Both Pitches snapped in unison.

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, really showing off how different you both are there.”

“I can’t believe you can’t even control your pet! How far have you fallen?” the newer boogeyman demanded over Jack’s head.

Pitch snarled. “You’re one to talk, trapped in here and weak as a kitten. But if you want to see if you can be brought lower, I’ll-”

“Wow, and here you almost tricked me into thinking you were cool,” Jack interrupted, heaving a sigh. Pitch looked offended. “Look, you. Pitch two,” he started turning to the shorter of the pair.

“Excuse me, this is _my_ timeline that _he_ invaded, that makes me the original one,” the boogeyman shot back, jabbing a finger at his doppelganger.

“Yeah, well, I met you second. And since calling you _both_ Pitch is going to be really confusing, really fast, I’m going to have to call one of you something else,” Jack replied. “I suppose you do have a theme going on with Pitch Black. So how ‘bout something along those lines? Like, hm, raven? You’re kind of bird-like.”

The newer boogeyman stared down his nose disdainfully at Jack. “I would thank you not draw any comparisons between me and that idiotic fairy. And raven is cliché.”

“Okay, coal black?”

“Oh, and now you have to involve the fat man too? Would you _stop_ drawing comparisons between me and those twits?”

Jack raised an eyebrow, looking confused, then shrugged. “Fine. Um, ebon black. Jet black. Oh, inky black!”

“If you call me Inky, I will find a way to kill you, immortal spirit or not.”

Jack grinned. “Hey, if you don’t have a better suggestion…”

He rolled his eyes. “If you _must_ call me anything, why not Mètminwi?”

“Metminwhat? That’s a bit of a mouthful.”

“It’s the Haitian name for the boogeyman; it means ‘master of midnight’.”

“Sounds kind of weird to me.”

“He’s also supposed to be two stories tall,” Pitch remarked with a smirk. “I’m not sure you really fit the profile at this point in time.”

The shorter boogeyman narrowed his eyes. “You-“

“How about Sable?” Jack interrupted, deciding to not deal with more bickering between the two. “That’s not bad, right? And it’s not three syllables long.”

“If it will get you out of my hair, then I don’t care,” the newly christened Sable muttered. He shot a dirty look at Pitch. “Why did you even bring him?”

“Well, I’d like to claim that I did it on purpose to annoy you, but I’m afraid that was just a happy coincidence,” Pitch replied with a smirk.

“Pitch, do you need to antagonise _everyone_ you meet?”

The boogeyman sniffed primly. "I don't see why I can’t bully myself. Everyone else seems to feel entitled to do so.”

“Are you two ever going to leave my home?” Sable demanded in exasperation. “You’ve _long_ outstayed your welcome.”

“Oh, yeah, sure. We’ll head out shortly. And you’ll come with us,” Jack said.

Both boogeyman snapped their gazes to Jack. “What?”

“Well, you say you’ve never done scaring for fun before, and _you_ say that it’s really enjoyable, so clearly you need to give it a whirl,” the frost spirit explained, as if it was obvious.

“Jack, that’s not… He’s not safe,” Pitch hissed. “You heard him, when we first came in here.”

Jack shrugged. “You said he didn’t have the power to carry out those threats. And you’ll be around to watch him. I don’t think it can hurt.”

Sable ignored his double and crossed his arms, looking pensive. “If it will get me out of this pit and let me hear some screams again, then I’ll come with you,” he decided.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead! Sorry for the long disappearance. I will be attempting to update A Home For Fear pretty soon now too.  
> Fun fact, for this chapter I looked up a ridiculous number of names for boogeymen from all over the world, and almost all of them sounded incredibly dorky. Like, all of these ones here: https://brickthology.wordpress.com/2014/10/31/bogeyman/  
> Mètminwi was one of the best of the bunch. I suppose 'boogeyman' isn't exactly a dignified title either, is it? Pitch, you are a universal and eternal dork, aren't you?


End file.
